Two punks live in Salt Lake City. The film covers their all-day routine. The realism of the character-narrated movie may be discussed. One o...更多>
Dad: I didn't sell out, Son, I bought in. Keep that in mind. Stevo: Wait, time out. I just wanted to ask real quick, if I can. You believe in rebellion, freedom and love, right? Mom: Absolutely, yes. Dad: Rebellion, freedom, love. Stevo: You two are divorced. So love failed. Two: Mom, your a New Ager, clinging to every scrap of Eastern religion that may justify why the above said love failed. Three: Dad, you're a slick, corporate, preppy-ass lawyer. I don't really have to say anything else about you do I dad? Four: You move from New York City, the Mecca and hub of the cultural world to Utah! Nowhere! To change nothing! More to perpetuate this cycle of greed, fascism and triviality. Your movement of the people, by and for the people got you... nothing! You just hide behind some lost sense of drugs, sex and rock and roll. Ooooh, Kumbaya! I am the future! I am the future of this great nation which you, father, so arrogantly saved this world for. Look, I have my own agenda. Harvard, out. University of Utah, in. I'm gonna get a 4.0 in damage. I love you guys! Don't get me wrong, it's all about this. But for the first time in my life, I'm 18 and I can say "FUUUUUCK YOU!" Dad: Steven, I didn't sell out son. I bought in. Keep that in mind. That kid's gonna make a hell of a lawyer, huh? Mom: Yeah, he takes after his father. He's a son of a bitch. Dad: Well fuck you dear. Stevo: Do you love her? Bob: I don't know. I'd have to think about that. Stevo: It's not really a thinking question. Stevo: You see life is like that. We change, that's all. You see, the guy I am now is not the guy I was then. If the guy I was then met the guy I am now he'd beat the shit out of me. Those are the facts. Stevo: To be an anarchist in Salt Lake City was certainly no easy task, especially in 1985. And having no money, no job, no plans for the future, the true anarchist position was in itself a strenuous job. Stevo: See, to me, England was nothing more then a big fucking American state like North Dakota or Canada. [on whether punk music started in England or America] Stevo: I don't know who started it and I don't give a fuck. The one thing I do know is that we did it harder, we did it faster, and we definitely did it with more love, baby. You can't take that away from us. Stevo:
I like Sandy. Now Sandy has nothing to do with anarchy in general, she's just a beautiful, wonderful, funny, witty, loving, sexy, tough-as-nails, little weird girl, and I absolutely adore her. I like Sandy a lot.
Stevo: I love you guys, don't get me wrong. But for the first time in my life I'm eighteen and I can say fuuuuck youuu. Stevo: There's nothing going on. That's what I saw when I looked out over the city: nothing. How the Mormon settlers looked upon this valley and felt that it was the promised land is beyond me. I don't know, maybe it looked different back then. Stevo: The sun never sets on the British Empire... well the sun never sets on my asshole. Stevo: It really makes you think, doesn't it, Bob? Bob: Think what? Stevo: That chemistry's the WRONG FUCKING MAJOR FOR A GUY LIKE YOU. It's the wrong major, Bob. Bob: Well you shoud still lay off the acid. Bob: You know that shit you guys do? You're fucking yourself up man. Fucking acid. Acid; it never leaves your body. It's in your fucking spinal cord forever. Let me tell you something about the nature of chemicals man: You know that dude Napoleon? Yeah. Uh, he was banished to an island when the French got sick of him. That's right. He supposedly died of stomach problems, right? wrong! He was actually poisoned over a long period of time. Murdered by arsenic; a preservative. And you know how? Stevo: No idea. Bob: His hair. Stevo: His hair? Bob: His fucking hair. It was arsenic. You could tell how long he was being poisoned by following the traces of poison up his hair. Dude, dude, dude, if you do enough hits of it you're dead! Stevo: It really makes you think, doesn't it Bob? Bob: Think? Think what? Stevo: That chemistry's the wrong fucking major for a guy like you. It's the wrong major, Bob! Bob: Well you should lay off the acid anyways man. Stevo: You're a Nazi! Dad: Nazi, I'm Jewish, Steven, how can I be a Nazi? Stevo: That's the worst. Dad, look at this. What kinda, what kinda car is this? Dad: That would be a Porshe. Stevo: A Porshe, that you bought at a Volkswagen dealership. Volkswagen, right? For the people who designed it? Who made that possible, Let me give you a hint, Adolf Hitler. Dad: IT'S JUST A CAR! Liquor Store Man: What the hell are you? Stevo: ooo, we come from the east in search of the Messiah! We followed that big star [points upwards] Eddie: Yeah, we bring gold, and frankincense. Stevo: [Still pointing upwards] You see it? Eddie: and myrrh. Stevo, Eddie: Myrrh. Liquor Store Man: You do what? Stevo: Followed the star.
Liquor Store Man